Lunatic
by Archedes
Summary: A brief recount of Saïx's time in Organization XIII, covering from when he lost his heart to when he was defeated by Sora. Rated T for graphic violence and gore.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters used: they and the Kingdom Hearts games all belond to Square-Enix

* * *

The sound of flesh peeling away from bone, the resonance of tendons being wrenched from muscle, and the report of limbs bending in ways they were never meant to bend. It was a sweet melody, accented by the euphony of horrified, pained screams that made the ballad's ground beat. The destruction was art, and the chaos its devoted author. With an apathetic shift of the shoulders, Asï's victim escaped, clutching the gaping red hole that was once her chest as she stumbled away. He watched her run, a small and only slightly hollow smile touching his lips. The surge of pleasure that swelled in Asï's chest nagged at him, its strange lack of legitimacy giving him the annoying sensation that he ought to be somewhere else, doing something else.

He dismissed it with a narrowing of his eyes, the massacre before him held almost lovingly in their yellowed depths. Asï followed his prey at a leisurely pace. There was no doubt that the pathetic little woman had hauled her half-dead carcass into a nearby alley to die amongst the trash. He wasn't concerned: perhaps the village would produce a more entertaining hunt when the moon rose again the next night. The town was a small, cobblestoned place filled with sickeningly jovial farmers, plump housewives, and children with dirty faces and sticky fingers.

Soon enough, Asï ran across the corpse of his latest endeavor, curled in the fetal position in a wide alley. Her hands were painted a deep crimson that looked almost black in the moonlight. Short amber hair hung limply about her crown, small clumps having formed at irregular intervals from the reeking combination of blood and perspiration. Indulging in a whim he didn't quite understand, Asï stepped toward her, nudging her onto her back with the toe of his boot. The girl had a fair face with soft angles and cheeks that would have dimpled and reddened when she smiled. She was as white and as cold as snow now, in death. Asï was disappointed: brilliant faces did not necessarily house brilliant minds. This was evident to him by the way she had tried to run upon discovering him, her moves blundering and made obvious by fear. The emotion was hollow, and again the nagging sensation that something was not right ate at Asï.

Muted footsteps sounded just outside the mouth of the alley. Asï hugged to the eastern wall, concealing himself in the shadows as he crept forward. The lithe silhouette of a man staggered into view, stopping abruptly at the sight of the mutilated girl. A choked sound wormed out of the stranger's throat, and Asï, as a man very fond of theatrics, decided to reveal himself. The gagging noises coming from the man managed to congeal into a word. Elizabeth. The name of the slain woman.

The man sobered at the sight of Asï, who was now at the correct angle at which the predator could view his prey's face. The man was not so much a man as a boy; a strapping youth no older than twenty. His features were a more masculine and defined version of the late Elizabeth, and Asï recognized him as her brother or some equally close relative. Realization dawned on the man's face as he took in Asï and his bloodied garments. With a bestial grin, Asï called to him, "Perhaps you will be more amusing than a harlot such as she."

Asï never saw it coming. With a practiced flick of the wrist and a cry of anguish, the man snapped the sheath off of the blade that had been concealed in his trousers and rushed Asï, moonlight dancing playfully across the knife's teeth. The man was inside his defenses before the killer even had the time to construct them. Asï snapped his hands up, staggering backwards as he felt the man's frenzied momentum collide with his crossed forearms. The knife grinned jauntily at him as it hovered above his forehead. The cold stone wall of the alley pressed against Asï's spine as the blade drifted closer, the man utilizing his advantage and putting all of his weight onto the killer. Asï could feel his opponent's heartbeat, a swift metronome pounding against the silent night air, and could imagine the raw adrenaline pumping through his veins, urging him to avenge the fair Elizabeth. The sound of that rapid throbbing made Asï's blood run cold.

The nagging sensation returned full-force, escorted by a suffocating hollowness that reached Asï's core. Something was missing. Something important. Asï screamed as the knife bit into his flesh, cutting a crude mark between his eyes. He fell to the ground, clutching his face as blood poured out of the wound. The man stood over him, gazing down with such hatred that were he not in an immense amount of pain, Asï would have been impressed. Cool metal pierced the killer's back, perforating the skin and tissue between his shoulder blades. The knife was ripped away, purposefully harsh. Asï could see nothing, partially blinded by pain and partially blinded from the blood flowing down into his eyes. His ears, however, were working perfectly.

"Filth," the man hissed, and Asï heard him choke back a sob. "You're _nothing_. Drown in your own worthless blood, murderer."

Asï blacked out. When he awoke, the man and the corpse of his sister were gone. Both of Asï's wounds were still spewing red, and he was surprised that he had woken at all. He was laying on his side, huddled against where the cobbled road met the cobbled wall, bathed in shadows and blood along with the rest of the alley. A whispery sound met his ears as the shadows began to pulse and surge like an ocean entering high-tide. The darkness began birthing yellow orbs that Asï found eerily familiar. And then, as if the floodgates of Hell had been thrust open, the Heartless began pouring out of the walls. Quivering antennae, clutching claws, and clicking fangs greeted Asï as the Shadows disengaged themselves from their collective portals. His scream was muffled as they swarmed him, lacerating his flesh and reaching for his ribcage.

Small, sharp talons sliced through Asï's shirt and skin, breaking through bone after bone with distinctive, audible _snap_s. He was being eaten alive, and each new wound brought about a fresh wave of agonized screams. The Heartless hacked and slashed at Asï's chest cavity, rending a giant hole with their inky fingers. A loud wail ripped its way out of his throat and sent a violent shudder spasming through his body. The obscene noise was cut off with a gurgle as Asï began choking on his own blood that poured inward from his mangled throat. His vision was long gone, for which he was thankful. However, Asï still had to listen to the sound of his own body being rendered mercilessly asunder; the predator having become the prey. His hair, once a bright blue but now stained indigo, clung to his skull in wet knots that were ripped apart by the Heartless as they scurried over his face, snapping at their brethren as they fought over Asï's heart.

Cold claws squeezed inside his chest, and Asï's breath hitched, his back arching in a paroxysm so violent that any pain he had endured beforehand paled in comparison. A horrible, wet ripping sound met his ears, and his howl came out as a squelching moan. He lashed out wildly at the demons, anything to staunch the torture. Asï felt something being pried from his decimated ribs with sharp, erratic tugs. With a final, futile thrash, his heart was gone. Wisps of silver enveloped him as his body began disintegrating, the Heartless disappearing into their respective Corridors of Darkness, having finished their meal and leaving with a new addition to their ranks. Asï went limp and waited to die.

Nothing happened.

His vision returned, and the pain was dissipated. There was no sky staring down at him from above, but a white ceiling hovering in its stead. He sat up tentatively, his hands automatically clutching at the bare skin of his chest. It was dark, but he was not outside. The cobblestone village was absent, replaced by featureless white walls. "A nightmare…" His voice was hoarse and indistinguishable to his own ears. He looked, bewildered, at the sheets that lay tangled about his legs. He felt no fear, but a dull echo from his core insisted that he _should_ feel it. His mind began to dispel the post-awakening confusion as he coaxed his tense muscles to relax. The dream was a distant memory from another life: he was not a murderous and bloodthirsty nomad.

He was Saïx, the _shell_ of a murderous and bloodthirsty nomad. He was Nothing; Number Seven and second-in-command of an Organization that didn't exist. A berserker by trade, and commander of his own army of specialized Nobodies. These truths floated about in his mind as he lay back, tracing the perpendicular scars between his eyes with a wondering finger.

It had been so long since he had dreamed of his own birth, after all.

-

There was no sun in The World That Never Was, making it near impossible to deduce when it was morning and night, since those things technically did not exist in a world suspended in eternal twilight. When Saïx awoke, starlight was streaming through the large window that made up the northern wall of his room.

Saïx, slipping into the emotionless mask that was so familiar to him, zipped up his cloak in a brisk manner. He disregarded the purple bruise-colored bags beneath his golden eyes, sweeping out of Addled Impasse without a second glance, the Corridor closing behind him with a hiss. The final, grotesque memories of a dead manslayer were the only forces that could still stir the notion of fear in Saïx. "A fitting end for a foolish man," he announced to the empty stairwell of Twilight's View.

The Luna Diviner descended with the hopes of finding a distraction and forgetting the nightmare, if only for a moment. As he walked, a Dusk wriggled up from the floor in front of him, swaying in its bizarre, bone-less manner. _Superior requests your presence, master,_ it whispered to him, the Nobody's triangular head oscillating like a serpent preparing to strike. _Where Nothing Gathers._

Saïx ignored the Dusk, summoning a portal that wreathed beneath his feet. Upon entering the circular room and taking his seat, quite an uproar met the Luna Diviner's ears. His comrades were poised in their respective thrones, the more outspoken of them arguing actively. Lexaeus sat to his right, regarding the quarrel with a clinical detachment. "Lexaeus," Saïx called down to him (for the Silent Hero's throne was lower). "What is going on?"

The large man looked up, his heavy brows knitted together. "There seems to be some… disagreement," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "pertaining to who will be stationed in the new base."

"Enough!" Xemnas's booming voice quieted the pandemonium. "If there is dissent, let us discuss it like adults instead of squabbling schoolchildren."

Vexen, who sat across from Lexaeus, sent him a withering look. "Xemnas, I do not understand why _Marluxia_—"he turned his glare to the pink-haired man, "—needs to come along. He is hardly a scientist."

"Could it have to do, perhaps, with the number of missions I have completed successfully?" Marluxia tossed back mockingly, staring condescendingly at Vexen and his short throne.

"And should any problems arise," Xemnas spoke as if Marluxia had not. "you will be willing to leave your experiments and handle them, Vexen?"

Vexen opened his mouth, and closed it again without a word. "My decision stands," Superior went on, giving Saïx a purposeful look. "Marluxia, Vexen, Zexion, Lexaeus, and Larxene will garrison Castle Oblivion. Fetch Naminé." The last sentence was directed at the Sorcerer that floated idly about the base of Xemnas's throne. It disappeared within the depths of a Corridor, and the meeting was adjourned.

The twelve members of the Organization left the room in groups of two and three, off to continue whatever it was they were doing before being summoned. Saïx, however, followed Xemnas up to the Altar of Naught. Number One was standing at the far end of his tower, his back to Saïx as he stared up at an empty expanse of star-filled sky. "Saïx," he acknowledged him without turning.

"Superior," the blue-haired man greeted, walking up to stand beside the taller man. "Do you think it wise to place Marluxia in such a position of power?"

"If he and Number Twelve are indeed conspiring, I trust Zexion to deal with it appropriately," Xemnas replied with a careless wave of his hand. Nothing more was said and the Luna Diviner tried a different approach.

"We have nearly doubled in size," Saïx started, staring out over the lip of the tower into the depths of the Dark City. "What is the Organization's purpose? Some of our fellows seem to be getting restless."

The silver-haired man chuckled, his amber eyes never straying from that certain spot in the sky. "The Keyblade wielder has defeated my Heartless, you know."

Saïx was silent, uncertain of how he was expected to pretend to react to this information. His Superior had nothing left to offer, leaving them in a silence that could have been companionable had either of them been capable of feeling camaraderie. Saïx's eyes were drawn to the streets, the asphalt considerably wet from the constant storming of The World That Never Was. There, he observed the various Dusks drifting about, always eager to obey any command given by the higher-ups. It was almost amusing.

Almost.

"The key," Xemnas began again abruptly, causing Saïx to turn to him. "is Kingdom Hearts."

"Kingdom… Hearts?" the Luna Diviner repeated.

"When person is turned into a Heartless, their heart is consumed by darkness, and in turn, creates another Heartless whose form depends entirely on the strength of the heart in question. When a Heartless is destroyed, however…" Xemnas trailed off; Saïx waited patiently for him to continue. Number One enjoyed dramatic speeches, if nothing else. "When a Heartless is destroyed, the liberated heart returns to Kingdom Hearts, which could be identified as the heart of the world, collectively speaking of course, as each world has its own heart. Harnessing such power… perhaps if we were able to do such a thing, we would be able to regain our own hearts and truly exist."

His words were certainly pretty, Saïx mused. Number Seven had never claimed to know much about the workings of the heart, yet in his other life that very study had been Xemnas's life's work. "Well?" the dark-skinned man was facing him now.

Saïx shrugged, the ghost of a smile skirting his lips. "Do you really have to ask, Superior?"

Xemnas chuckled again, turning back to the dark sky. "We will need to gather hearts, then. Many of them."

"Perhaps the Keyblade wielder will be of some use to us," Saïx offered.

Number One smirked, stepping back from the lip of the tower and regarding Saïx with feinted pleasure. "Perhaps... and maybe he would even be so kind as to help us in the tedious matter of rooting out those who are not… dedicated to the cause."

A portal opened a few feet from the men, admitting two Sorcerers and a young girl who looked no older than thirteen. She had short, sandy blonde hair and wide blue eyes. In her hands were a notepad and pencil, which her grip tightened around upon spotting Xemnas. "The girl?" Saïx questioned, his gaze drifting between them.

Xemnas shrugged. "Marluxia may find her of some use, what with her power over the Keyblade bearer's memories."

A grin tugged at Number Seven as he gazed coldly at Naminé as an animal would gaze at its prey. She averted her eyes under his hungry stare, locking her jaw as she stared at her sandals. "And should Number Eleven fail this test of yours? What then?"

"As I said before: I trust Zexion to handle any problems accordingly. If not: Axel would be but too happy to dispose of the traitors." Xemnas lifted his arm, willing a portal to materialize; he turned his gaze to the Sorcerers. "Bring her to Marluxia.

It's time we tested her worth."

-

Number Thirteen, Roxas.

That was the newest one's name.

He was a child; his small size dwarfed even more by the massive throne on which he sat, directly across from Xemnas. And he had no memories of his Other. Of Sora. Xemnas was pleased nonetheless with his new toy. The Nobody of the Keyblade wielder who could wield two Keyblades himself. The lack of memories made Roxas all the more pliable to Xemnas, who looked undeniably smug as he introduced the boy in Where Nothing Gathers. Saïx's fellows were not particularly impressed, to which Xemnas paid no mind.

Castle Oblivion was silent: offering no new revelations or anything of the sort. As a month came and went, Superior had decided to send Axel in to investigate. It was just as well; the red-head had been particularly unbearable as of late, being the most restless out of all of the Organization. A few more weeks passed, and Axel leap-frogged between The World That Never Was and Castle Oblivion, giving no more insight than a simple "It's just as boring there as it is here." Saïx was uncertain about trusting the younger Nobody, but with no condemning proof, he grudgingly let things be.

It was an unusually quiet day in the Castle That Never Was. Ordinarily, there was always a fight to be had, whether it was between Vexen and Marluxia, or Larxene and any other member. With those three catalysts gone, serenity had returned. If Saïx had a heart, he would have chuckled at the thought of Vexen and Marluxia ripping each others' throats out. The flighty scientist could feel no true anger or hatred, yet the pettiness of his Other carried well on into his Nobody's own personality. Larxene, on the other hand, had the maddening habit of always injecting some sort of emotion into her every action. She enjoyed pretending entirely too much.

Saïx was observing the grave-like portals in Proof of Existence, deciding to enjoy the quiet in the most secluded section of the castle. Addled Impasse was inadequate, for it was adjacent to Luxord's room. The blonde-haired man was always looking for a gambling buddy, and the Luna Diviner was far from interested.

Saïx was prone to spacing out when he was alone. He thought about many things, such as the state of the Organization, Zexion's latest theories on the Heartless, and how to brush off Larxene's 'friendliness' with as little pain as possible. This time, however, Saïx thought about his Other life. He had killed people for many reasons: money, property, power, notoriety. But most of all, he did it because he _liked_ it. Saïx's Other did not have a traumatizing past to justify such actions; he, one day, wondered what would happen if a sharp object was to be driven through a person's eye, and acted on the impulse. The thrill of the hunt, the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins as his heart pumped faster and faster: it was intoxicating.

Saïx would never feel those things again, and withdrew behind an emotionless mask. The emotionless part was not hard, he being a Nobody, but he yearned for his heart. Dismissing the thoughts with a narrowing of the eyes, he turned his mind to other things. And at that moment, something completely unexpected happened.

The tombstone depicting Vexen's shield emitted a low grinding sound. The blue light that shone from its core flickered once… twice… three times before dying. Multiple cracks spider-webbed across its surface, covering the portal in a mural of crisscrossing black lines. A short, high-pitched beep rang out, and the small square of once-blue glass that sat before the portal lit up with a piercing red light. Saïx blinked, before setting aside the book he had 'borrowed' from Zexion's library and approaching the mechanism.

The plaque bearing Vexen's weapon of choice was bathed in crimson, the number IV obscured by the shadows cast by the tombstone. Saïx placed a curious hand on it, tracing the pattern of fissures with his long fingers. The surface was cool to the touch, even through his thick leather gloves, and a small echo of what could have been curiosity washed through Saïx. The sensation went as quickly as it had come, and Number Seven summoned a Dusk, sending it out to inform Xemnas. Casting a curious golden gaze about the other graves, all glowing a brilliant blue, Saïx wondered what, exactly, this could mean.

Before long, he felt the air around him ripple with darkness as his comrades materialized beside him, minus Roxas. Saïx stepped away from the tombstone, ignoring the various stares of the other members as he looked at Xemnas expectantly. Superior's reaction was unexpected, to say the least.

"So," he began, a toothy smile gracing his lips as he inspected the damaged portal. "Marluxia was a traitor after all."

"Does this mean Vexen is dead?" Demyx asked, frowning.

"Yes," Superior affirmed, turning around to face his subordinates, smirk still in place. He sent a sidelong glance to his second-in-command. "It seems the Keyblade wielder has proven valuable to us after all."

Saïx nodded uncertainly. It was clichéd, but Xemnas was most definitely an enigma wrapped inside of a conundrum. It was near impossible to follow his line of thinking, as he was known for changing his thought process at the drop of a hat, so to speak. "What now?"

"We prepare for Kingdom Hearts," Xemnas declared, returning his attention to the puzzled expressions of the other Organization members. "Xaldin, find Roxas. You two are going to another world, I don't care which, to destroy every Heartless you find."

Xaldin, having once studied under Ansem the Wise himself, understood immediately and left without a word. Xigbar, looking thoroughly bored by the conversation, quickly followed suit. "Whoa whoa… hey!" Demyx waved his hands around, earning himself a couple of strange stares courtesy of Luxord. "What's going on?"

"The beginning of the reclamation of our hearts," Xemnas replied.

"Just can't do without the drama, eh Superior?" Luxord asked lightly, before he, too, disappeared within a Corridor.

Demyx, who was now left alone with Xemnas and the Luna Diviner, felt a tad uneasy. He wasn't exactly _brave_ in his Other life, and Numbers One and Seven were quite possibly the scariest members in the Organization. With a meek "Never mind!", Number Nine bolted. Saïx resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead opted to ask: "Why not send all of them out to harvest hearts?"

Xemnas shook his head, beckoning to the Luna Diviner to accompany him up to the Altar of Naught. It was only a short walk away, and Superior did not feel the need to trouble himself with prodding the darkness unnecessarily. "Only the Keyblade can release hearts from the darkness. If you or I destroyed a Heartless, the heart would fade into darkness instead of returning to Kingdom Hearts," Xemnas mused.

A light rain was falling from the dark skies of The World That Never Was. Xemnas walked out from the cover of Naught's Approach, unperturbed by the water. Saïx followed close behind, resisting the urge to pull up his hood. "How will we obtain Kingdom Hearts, then?"

Xemnas pointed to a spot in the sky, a stark canvas of black completely devoid of stars. "Somehow…" he murmured quietly. "Somehow, using the power of darkness, I will anchor it to our world."

Saïx followed his gaze and was silent. Only the gentle rain pattering down on the pearly surface of the Castle was to be heard, and the Luna Diviner wondered, as he often did, what could be going through his leader's head. "Go." Xemnas's voice was subdued, yet firm. Saïx left.

His pale hair clung to his skull, matted down by the rain, but he just couldn't find it in his _heart_ to care. Casting a wary look about the Altar, Xemnas allowed himself a dark chuckle. "Soon…" he promised, his amber stare locked on the sky, where he could almost _feel_ Kingdom Hearts floating, just within his reach. "The power of all the worlds will be mine, and nothing will stop me. Not the Keyblade wielder, not nonexistence, and especially not that fool Ansem."

-

_Such beauty,_ Saïx thought as he stared up at Kingdom Hearts. A giant moon, silhouetted in pink, was suspended in the sky, fitting perfectly within the center of his large window in Addled Impasse. Its middle was a pale yellow, a great contrast to the clouded background against which it sat. Large craters sprawled about Kingdom Hearts' surface, and for the first time in a long time, Saïx remembered what it was like to have hope. He would be whole again, and this would become just another nightmare. He could practically hear the enraged euphoria of the countless hearts emanating from Kingdom Hearts. Saïx's eyes slipped shut as he basked in the moonlight. Rage was the strongest of the heart's emotions, after all. A Kingdom Hearts of anger was one of power.

Multiple pairs of footsteps sounded behind him, and his eyes opened again. Turning, he greeted the Keyblade wielder in a mocking tone: "Only you could have made it this far in one piece… Roxas." He willed his claymore into existence, reveling in its reassuring weight as he clutched it in his right hand. Xemnas was counting on him to dispose of the meddlesome child, and Saïx would fulfill his command to the very best of his abilities.

"That's really getting old!" he shot back, anger written across his young features. He could not have been older than fifteen, sporting ridiculous brown hair and giant black sneakers. The Keyblade wielder stomped his foot in a juvenile manner.

His pets, the dog and the duck, stepped in front of him protectively, arms spread wide. "Yeah! He's Sora!" the duck warbled, massacring his words.

Saïx ignored them, raising his claymore and holding it out in front of his body. With a familiar flick of the wrist, the massive weapon's eight concealed blades slid out, circling the cross-tip in a halo of glistening chrome. Pulling it back, he switched his grip methodically, holding the claymore backwards with the daggers pointing to the floor. "Different name, same fate."

With a mighty thrust, the girl and Xehanort's Heartless were thrown back. The Luna Diviner did not need their interference. Sora and his companions summoned their own weapons, slipping into practiced battle stances. "Do you feel it: the moon's power?" Saïx was looking forward to this, the opportunity to cast aside his mask and truly let himself go. He leapt into the air, the power of Kingdom Hearts at his back.

He would not, could not, fail.

-

It was over, unnaturally fast and inhumanly painful. Saïx gripped his claymore to the point where he could almost _hear_ his knuckles screaming out in protest. He staggered back, fixing them with a venomous glare as he clutched his side. With a gasp, he dropped the weapon and turned to the window, his eyes, already swimming with darkness, desperately seeking. Saïx dragged himself forward, gazing up at Kingdom Hearts. "Why…

Kingdom Hearts…

Where… _is my heart_?"

He reached out, feeling the darkness congeal around him in a swirling mass. It stretched up, encasing him in a column of ink as it beckoned him into Oblivion. Saïx clenched his jaw as it ate away at him, forcing him into the Nothingness that he so abhorred. _N-no!_ _Not yet!_

Saïx was aware of his body dissolving in the darkness, and it was the most disgusting sensation he had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Everything seemed to go in slow-motion, and just like when he lost his heart, his vision was the first thing to abandon him. The darkness meticulously devoured him, stealing his breath away until there was nothing left but a mass of squirming black tendrils. With a final sigh, all that was once the Luna Diviner was engulfed in the inky thorns.

And they too disappeared, leaving nothing behind to mark the final resting place of a life-long murderer.

* * *

Just a quick note: I referred to Riku as "Xehanort's Heartless" because Xehanort's Heartless resided in Riku's heart,(duh) at one time, at least. But I don't think Saïx would acknowledge Riku as his own person because of that.

Anyways, reviews would be appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcomed: this is my first KH fanfic, and I'd love to know if I murdered the characters or not.


End file.
